'You will tell me, Mr Tweed, where the others are and what they are doing otherwise I shall shoot Miss Grey.'
He spoke very rapidly, excellent English but with an accent. For once in his life Tweed was uncertain. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to delay the killer. That was the moment when Harry appeared behind the Slovak and hammered his sap hard on the back of his hatless head.
Radek's eyes opened very wide, then he collapsed backwards. Harry caught him, lowered him to the floor as the waitress appeared again. Paula stood up, spoke quickly to her in French.
'This poor gentleman has collapsed. Could be a heart attack. Call an ambulance. We have to go but we'll be back.'
As they hurried out of the cafe the waitress rushed to the phone.
Outside Newman appeared, carrying a beautifully wrapped package. He stared at their obvious haste. Paula hailed an oncoming cab.
'Gare du Nord, please,' said Tweed, handing the driver a large tip. 'And hurry, or we're going to miss our train.'
Paula repeated the request in French, seeing the driver's stare of incomprehension. They piled into the back, Tweed and Paula occupying the main seat while Harry and Newman used the jump seats. They were moving.
At the Gare du Nord, Tweed found an empty coach. The Eurostar was on the verge of leaving. They had just settled in their seats when it glided out of the terminus.
Tweed told Newman what had happened. Newman stood up and carefully placed his wrapped gift with their small bags. He didn't comment until he sat down.
'How the devil did Radek reach Paris so quickly?'
'By busting the speed limits on the autoroute, would be my guess,' Tweed told him. 'When we were parked in the lay-by while Philip collected our weapons I noticed a car going over the limit. Two people inside – the driver and one passenger. Too quick to identify anyone.'
'Did you kill Radek?' Newman asked Harry.
'Definitely not. That would have brought the police. He will be out for about an hour and then recover – with the mother and father of all headaches.'
'What puzzles me,' said Paula, 'is how he spotted me, knew who I was.'
'We've taken photos of people,' Tweed reminded her. 'So why shouldn't someone from the Cabal have done the same thing? Then Noel, the hyper-efficient Noel, takes the prints with him.'
No one said any more until they emerged from the tunnel into Kent. Paula peered out of the window, heaved a great sigh.
Unlike in Paris, the sun was shining brilliantly out of a duck-egg-blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. She savoured the green fields which, early, were beginning to sprout, the orchards coated in a green fuzz.
'I'm glad to get out of France,' she said. 'So glad to get back to England and peace.'
'Don't count on peace,' Tweed warned. 'We have a savage murder to investigate and a battle to crush the merger of all the security services.'
'Do shut up,' Newman told him. 'She's had a rough ride. Your problem is you never appreciate the finer things of life.'
'Sorry. You're right, Bob. Paula has had a nerve-racking trip most of the way. I do realize that.'
'I just want to get home, to have hours of sleep in my own bed. In the morning I'll be a hellcat,' Paula added.
21
Tweed walked into an atmosphere of crisis,
He took off his coat, settled down in his chair, looked round his office. Monica, grim-faced, got up to come over to him. Pete Nield was standing up, arms folded, no sign of a smile. Marler stood against the wall, fiddling with his cigarette holder, which was empty. He stared at Tweed.
Paula, who had been going to leave, sat down at her desk. Newman waited by the door, scanning expressions. It was Tweed who broke the ice.
'Well, what happened in my absence? You all look as though a bomb has gone off.'
'It has, in a manner of speaking,' Monica said, standing stiffly in front of his desk. 'First, General Macomber phoned, told me that under no circumstances must Tweed go anywhere alone. He added he'd just seen the Cabal. Then Benton Macomber bulldozed his way in. Asked to see you urgently. I said you weren't available. "Is he abroad?" Benton asked. I said I'd no idea where you were. He said you must call him the moment you returned, then pushed off. Pete,' she went on, turning to Nield, 'maybe you'd like to describe your experience.'
'Sinister,' Nield began. 'Early this afternoon I saw a large white van stopped across the road. Had TV painted on its side. They were using cameras to photograph this building. So I went out, crossed the main road in front of the van. It started moving, nearly mowed me down. I skipped on to the pavement and it stopped. I opened the passenger door. The thug beside the driver swore at me. I demanded to know what the hell they were doing, who they were. The passenger tried to kick me in the face. I grabbed his leg, hauled him out, repeated my questions. The driver produced an automatic, pointed it at me, ordered me to let go of his mate. I did so. The van drove off.'
'Intimidation,' said Tweed. 'So if they're playing rough we must respond at once. Marler, work out a plan.'
'I already have done. I'll need Harry's help. Now…'
Both men left the office. Tweed, his manner calm, took out a pen and a pad, began doodling. Those remaining waited for his next words.
'Interesting that Benton asked if I was abroad. He knew I was. Was checking your reaction, Monica. You did well.'
'How could he know?' Paula wondered aloud.
'Radek. He'd report our presence to Noel, wherever he was keeping out of sight of violence. Noel would then phone the information to the Cabal. Benton came in about five o'clock this afternoon?' he asked Monica.
'Not far off that.'
'We'd be on Eurostar. Noel probably flew back ahead of us. With Radek. Which reminds me.' He took out a photo Philip had handed him, gave it to Monica. 'Take that downstairs. Ask them to make five copies. Urgent. Then everyone has a copy.'
'Horrible-looking brute,' Monica commented.
'The devil himself,' chimed in Paula. 'Radek.'
'You think he's over here already?' Newman suggested.
'Sure of it. He'd fly back with Noel. We have two choice killers to watch out for. Fitch, now Radek.' He looked at Paula. 'You go back home, escorted by Newman. You won't mind if he sleeps in your spare bedroom tonight?'
'I'd appreciate it, when I do go. I'm wide awake now we have all this to deal with. I find it strange that General Macomber should warn us.'
'Could be he doesn't like the Cabal. Or it could be part of the campaign of intimidation.'
'You can't suspect the General,' she protested.
'I suspect everyone until we've smashed the Cabal. Why, I wonder, did he visit the Cabal when he's supposed to detest his offspring? I sense everyone is lying.'
'Can I tell you about my encounter with my informant yesterday?' Nield enquired.
'Encounter?' Tweed queried. 'Yes, go ahead.'
'I wasn't happy, so I called her and suggested we had dinner. She accepted immediately, said she was worried. This is how it went…'
Nield had arrived promptly at Coral's apartment. When she opened the door she was dressed to kill. Her flaming red hair was piled on top of her head, and she wore a short close-fitting white dress, accentuating her excellent figure.
'Come in and have a drink first, Pete,' she invited him with a glowing smile.
'Unfortunately we haven't time,' he replied, thinking quickly. 'I've booked a table at that restaurant just down the road. If we don't grab it now they'll give it to someone else.'
'OK. Let me get my coat.'
'What are you worried about?' he asked as they walked down the street.
'It can wait until we've had a drink. I need one. Brandy.'